All Paths Leading Forward
by Queen of the Castle
Summary: As Amy watched the TARDIS disappear, Rory thought that some part of her went with it. Amy/Rory


Author's Notes: Contains spoilers all the way up to 'The Wedding of River Song'.

* * *

><p><strong>Leaving the Past<strong>

The Doctor leaving Amy behind was nothing new. Both she and Rory had been ducking in and out of the madness of the Doctor's life often enough that it had become something of a game to guess which place they'd be dropped off next, and then a competition to see who could find the best way to drag the Doctor back to the right time and place to pick them up.

Yet this time, for the first time, it seemed clear that Amy conceded to herself that the Doctor wasn't coming back for them. That defeated look in her eyes nearly broke Rory's heart; he had no idea how the Doctor could possibly walk away from _that_, and found that he resented him even more for being able to.

As Amy watched the TARDIS disappear, Rory thought that some part of her went with it.

"Go on, I wouldn't worry too much. You know him," Rory tried to reassure her as she peered at the house and the car as if they were far more alien than anything she'd seen out there in the further reaches of space.

Rory himself could think of nothing better than finally settling down (especially in a much better house than the place they'd been renting over the other side of town, not to mention with _that car_). Yet he hated that Amy apparently felt like she was stuck there. Whatever problems Rory had with him, he'd gladly go off travelling with the Doctor again now, knowing that despite everything that was still what Amy wanted far more than she craved this kind of life.

"Wha'?" Amy asked distractedly.

"Him," Rory said. "Genius Time Lord or not, he can be a bit of an idiot. He'll get all stubborn about it, but he'll realise how much he misses having you around and be back in no time, though, just like always."

Amy wasn't consoled in the slightest. "Except he can't. He said we'd see him again someday, but he doesn't know what we know, does he? We saw it. The Doctor's going to _die _in, what, a few weeks? A month? No time at all. We'll never see him again now. He's gone."

There wasn't much Rory could say to counter that, so he remained silent. She was right, though. Maybe he was being influenced by her attitude as much as anything, but something about this didn't feel like just another temporary stop-off. He wasn't doing either of them any great favour in trying to pretend otherwise. His efforts would be better spent in trying to help her get used to this new reality of theirs instead.

Amy moved all of her things into the new house without complaint – or rather, she allowed Rory to do it for her – but she didn't seem particularly bothered by the idea of doing anything further to help herself move on. So much of Amy's life had been tied up in the Doctor, one way or another, that Rory knew that hanging onto the past for a while was only to be expected. Yet still he wished that he could do something to stop her from sitting out in the yard staring hopelessly up at the stars every night as if wishing that she could get back out there again, even though she knew that it couldn't be much more than a dream now.

"You could get a job," Rory proposed when he sat down beside her one night, too busy staring at her to give the stars that held her gaze so much as a glance. Going straight back to nursing and applying to get into studying just as soon as the new semester started had done wonders for getting Rory himself settled in. Even if something similar didn't have quite as profound an impact on Amy, it certainly couldn't hurt.

"Can't exactly be a kissogram anymore, can I?" Amy replied wryly, flashing her wedding ring at him demonstratively.

Rory made a face at that suggestion. He'd had enough of a time dealing with her kissing other people (especially since he knew practically all of them; bound to in a town the size of Leadworth) back when they'd barely started dating, let alone late in their engagement just before the Doctor had reappeared and inadvertently put a stop to it by taking her off into time and space. Now... no. Just no. It wasn't even an option. He was glad to hear that she agreed.

"You could always model," Rory said.

Amy gave him a little smile. It was the first one he could recall seeing since they'd ended up there, in that still-unfamiliar house. "Is that your way of calling me beautiful, Rory Williams?"

"Can't remember the last time I said something that _didn't _secretly mean that to some extent, actually," Rory said, grasping her hand in his.

Amy seemed pleased, but shook her head regardless. "Nah, don't think the modelling world's for me. Imagine having someone order me about all the time. Me! I'd tell them where to go within the first ten minutes of that sort of rubbish. Remember that one time I worked at the coffee shop? That'd be tame in comparison."

"That problem could be fixed if you were your own boss, though," Rory interjected. "Nothing stopping you from doing that."

"Oh, yeah, sure. I'll just start my very own business with the scads of cash we have lying around, shall I?" Amy asked sarcastically.

"Um, we _do _have lots of money now, remember?" Rory said. He purposely didn't explicitly say the Doctor's name – no need to tear that unhealed wound open any further – but it made no sense to ignore the money he'd left them in addition to the house.

"Mmm," Amy said noncommittally. When Rory finished the glass of wine he'd poured for himself and left her out there alone, though, he got the impression that for once she was thinking about something else as she looked up at the sky.

It was certainly a start.

* * *

><p><strong>Living in the Moment<strong>

When complete strangers walked past the Petrichor advertisements and remarked how Amy Pond seemed to almost glow in those pictures, Rory snorted to himself. They didn't know her, or at least hadn't known her before. They couldn't see that something had changed, and not entirely for the better. The real glow that had always emanated from her was mostly missing.

Even living in the middle of – even Rory could admit – an incredibly dull little town like Leadworth, Amy's life had always been more than just ordinary. She'd never quite fit in, especially with Mel goading her along in her belief that she'd be saved from this life by the Doctor, and making herself stand out even when her parents would probably prefer that she be just a _little _bit more normal. Rory had never wanted that, though. He'd lived on the periphery of her strange fairy-tale and adored her all the more for being exceptional enough to be able to stand the spotlight always being on her. But Rory had always kept one foot firmly planted in the everyday part of life. He still felt at home there, at least much more than Amy did. He was more glad of that than ever now, for it meant that he might, just maybe, be able to help her.

And things did seem to be getting better, if slowly. Every day Amy's smile seemed just a little bit less forced. In the moments when Rory pulled her close and kissed her, or let her rest her head on his shoulder while he breathed in the smell of her shampoo, he actually felt as though she was right there with him and that there was nowhere she'd rather be just then.

It was a pity those moments were relatively rare.

That changed to some extent after an older woman came right up to Amy, all apologetic and flustered at the sight of her, and told the two of them about how Amy's perfume had made her feel young again. It was so unexpected that Amy didn't seem to know what to do, beyond giving her a bemused sort of quirk of the lips, though she'd graciously shaken the lady's hand all the same.

"You know," Rory said as the woman walked away, "I think you really managed to change her life just with a bit of perfume, weird as that seems."

Amy looked thoughtful. "Yeah," she said slowly, a smile blooming. "Or helped her change it herself, more the point."

Just like _he _often did, neither of them said, though it hung between them almost tangibly in the air. Unlike him, though, Rory couldn't see Amy ruining the next person's life, and maybe the one after that as well, playing at a balancing act that Rory believed must have been the reason the two of them had been left behind.

Amy reached out and entwined their fingers, leaning against his side. "Come on. You were going to take me shopping," she said.

Rory sighed. Shopping. Time with Amy was always something he enjoyed, but that was just about his least favourite way of spending it, right there on the list just after being in such deep mortal danger that he was absolutely certain they were about to die horribly. "Seriously? More shopping? Didn't we go just a few days ago?" he asked, though he didn't have any great hope his words would make a difference.

"Seriously," Amy confirmed. "You know I didn't find the top I wanted last time."

Rory tagged along behind her without further complaint, glad to see her looking so suddenly animated about anything, even if it was going to require him to stand outside a changing room for hours on end.

He wished he'd grabbed that woman's name. She wasn't the only one whose life had been changed.

* * *

><p><strong>Looking to the Future<strong>

River's semi-frequent visits were what finally properly gave Amy something to look forward to again, even if it was only something relatively small like an evening chat and a shared drink every now and then.

Rory didn't mind that he hadn't been the one to help her that way. Sure, he liked being there by her side through the struggles of the day-to-day, but Rory had never been any kind of crutch for Amy, nor wanted to be. She might have been going through a rough patch, but she'd always been so tough. She found her own ways to get by, usually on her own, but as far as Rory was concerned, other people were more than welcome to give her a hand in doing that as well. He just wanted her to be happy, however that came about.

Besides, even if he was still wrapping his head around the madness of it all, River _was _his daughter, and he was hardly about to begrudge her time spent bonding with her mother.

Rory came home from work one night to find the two of them together jumping around like they'd just saved the world... again. Just the thought of that made him strangely nostalgic for days past in a way he wouldn't have expected of himself. He'd thought he was personally nothing but glad to get out of the TARDIS and away from the Doctor. Weird.

Rory saw something, then, in Amy's eyes that had been absent since the Doctor had purposely wiped it from her.

Hope. Belief. Faith.

The Doctor was alive, they told him excitedly, talking over the top of each other and bursting into almost hysterical giggles throughout the explanation.

"You look happier than I've seen you in ages," Amy remarked. It seemed like a mad thing for her to be saying that to him, all things considered, but Rory realised that she was actually right.

Rory was glad to hear that the Doctor hadn't died for more than just Amy's sake, he found. Neither was it just because, despite whatever he might wonder sometimes, Rory thought that ultimately the universe was a better place with the Doctor out there doing his thing, and the Doctor certainly hadn't deserved to die just because some stupid cult said he should. No, it was more than that.

Rory could suddenly once again see a time in his future when he might be doing more than just struggling to help one patient at a time. With the Doctor, they'd saved entire civilisations – entire _universes _– all at once. However much Rory liked his job, he'd sort of missed having a larger role, at least when the Doctor wasn't forcing him into the background.

In all his worry over Amy, Rory hadn't realised that he'd still needed something to really look forward to as well.

They weren't about to gallivant off into time and space tomorrow or anything. That wasn't the point. The real issue was that the Doctor being alive meant that he could keep his promise that he'd come back for the two of them after all. 'One day,' they could tell themselves, and not believe it was just a fool's hope or an outright lie.

They weren't going to stop getting on with their lives because they were too busy waiting for the Doctor. They'd both long since learned better than that. But it seemed to make it strangely easier to know that one day the Doctor might just swoop in to interrupt whatever life they sculpted out for themselves, and that they would then get the chance to see those stars again.

Rory could see the glint of them reflected in Amy's eyes. He'd missed that spark.

For the memory of this moment – the way he felt at seeing her look so alive again, and at feeling more alive himself – Rory thought that when that day rolled around he might even refrain from telling the Doctor off for a straight day without pause for leaving them behind in the first place.

Then again, probably not. Rory just bet the Doctor would say something stupid the moment he arrived that would justify a long rant ten times over. The Doctor would be lucky to get away with it being just one day.

Rory was looking forward to it.

~FIN~


End file.
